Out of Your Depth
by BettyMaeStrange
Summary: Nieves believes that distancing herself from people is the best idea to prevent them from the wrath of her curse. But when people start to pay attention to the quiet, reclusive girl — and not all with good intentions - she feels a little out of her depth.
1. Chapter 1

Crossing the barrier and eyeing the steaming red train, I closed my eyes and let the thought, 'Two more years,' wash over me.

Admittedly, my belief that magic was created by evil Muggles hell-bent on destroying the world, and that Hogwarts was a prison built to brain-wash the students into believing what they were learning was normal, was probably an opinion that only I had. Probably.

Honestly, though, when you've grown up with the circumstances and the memories that I have, you're bound to be a little cynical of the environment around you.

Being in Sixth Year and still having no friends - and also no parents - is bound to affect your judgment on the world, I suppose. I've grown up so far in the once Muggle orphanage in London - Wool's -, that now cares for children of witch and wizarding heritages. Most stay there for a year at most because of the death of a parent or unsuitable home conditions, and are then adopted and taken in by a new family. Despite the normalcy of those situations, I've been there for my whole sixteen years of life, and I didn't even have to suffer first before being shipped off to the orphanage; I was simply abandoned. To be fair to my "parents", my mother died during childbirth, and as a result my father wasn't able to care for me due to a lack of money and support from the Ministry of Magic.

I stepped onto the gleaming red train that was lazily puffing smoke out of its chimney and peered absentmindedly out of the window of my empty compartment. There were very few people on the platform at the moment, but when those very few people were the most famous wizarding family in the world; their presence seemed to feel like there were more.

My attention should have been instantly drawn to the Saviour of the World; Harry Potter, but instead I felt my eyes roam towards the youngest son of the Boy-Who-Lived; Albus Severus Potter. He was an inevitably popular boy in my own year with a well-developed handsome face, a mop of unruly raven hair on his head and Lily Potter's emerald green eyes. Although Albus had the features, his elder brother James had the hero's face; near perfect bar the scar and rounded glasses of the Saviour's youth. His eyes were a deep brown, courteous of his mother, Ginevra Weasley, and his hair a mix of brown and red. He was a charming, polite boy and the model student of Hogwarts. It was no surprise to me when I saw the proudly gleaming Head Boy badge pinned to his robes.

Their younger sister Lily, the spitting image of her mother yet somehow more beautiful, stood to the side of the brothers, still clinging to Mrs. Potter in a desperate last embrace before she levitated her trunk, kissed Mr. Potter on the cheek and boarded the train, no doubt now thinking excitedly about returning to her second home. I turned away from the window after the two sadly smiling parents left, eager to escape the ravenous claws of the press and fanatic students, and sank lower in my seat, closing my eyes, grudgingly waiting for eleven o'clock to arrive.

After what seemed like endless hours, the Hogwarts Express, full to bursting with animated witches and wizards, pulled away from the platform and chugged its way northwards towards Hogwarts. I withdrew the book Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix - the fifth fictional biography of Harry Potter's life created for Muggle readings - from my satchel and found myself easily immersed in the world of magic, friendship and adventure; only the former of those things I had experience of.

As the train departed, three Seventh Year Slytherin boys stumbled into the compartment, clearly aware that it was already occupied. I shrank a little further into the corner, hoping it would simply swallow me whole; I wasn't in the mood to deal with a bunch or rowdy, egotistical young men.

"Oh look, it's the mute," one of the boys sneered as he sat down beside me, the other two on the opposite seat. I ignored him and continued reading, refusing to give them the satisfaction of attention. "What, you've got nothing to say?" he leered at me and his companions simply continued their mundane topic of Quidditch; clearly the boy's immature antics weren't anything new to his friends.

"Go on, say something. I dare you," he mocked, leaning closer to me and at this point I had had enough - my usually impeccably reigned in temper was a on a tight leash today. I slowly placed my book in my lap; my hands clasped on top of it and raised one delicate white-blonde eyebrow. The boy visibly paled and the compartment fell silent.

_Why couldn't they have been innocent Hufflepuffs, _I thought. There was no point defending the House's students from the stereotypical views on them - they were all sugar-coated, giggly, 'always-look-on-the-bright side' enthusiasts, and no one seemed to disagree with that opinion - not even themselves.

All at once the temperature dropped a few degrees and the boys' pearly white teeth started chattering noisily. I gave the black-haired narcissist a pointed look.

"Uh, Drew, maybe we should go find another compartment," another of the boys said sensibly, his eyes darting nervously between 'Drew' and myself.

I smirked and watched as the three Slytherins hurried to their feet and nearly flew out the door. I was tempted to shout, "Leaving so soon?" but I thought that would be pushing my luck.

Moments later I heard a tap at the door. I looked up, my brows furrowing in confusion. The door slid open carefully and deep brown eyes stared at me for a few seconds, before shifting into a puzzlement resembling mine. What was the Head Boy doing in my compartment?

"Can I help you?" I asked sweetly.

"N-no," he stammered. "I mean, yes," he continued, his voice taking on an authoritative tone. "Three Slytherin boys just reported the use of magic in this compartment. The rules clearly state that no pupil is to—"

"I know what the rules state," I interrupted softly, "and I haven't touched my wand. I've even left it in my trunk as I clearly have no use for it on the train. You can go check you if you like." I waved my hand in the direction of my trunk, resting on the bars above my head.

He coughed. "Uh, no that won't be necessary... Jennifer?"

"Genevieve," I corrected stonily. "Genevieve Sanders."

"Right, yes, uh, Genevieve."

The silenced stretched and James coughed again. "Well, that will be all. If you sense or see anyone using magic please come and tell me at once."

I smiled and nodded. "I will."

He nodded towards me once more before walking into the corridor and sliding the door shut. What was he being so awkward about? I groaned as I looked down at the book in my lap - how else did I expect him to react when he's talking to a strange girl reading a fictional Muggle novel about his _father_? All this social interaction was too much for me to handle in one day.


	2. Chapter 2

The Great Hall never failed to impress me upon arrival of Hogwarts. I had run from the carriages as the heavens has opened at some point whilst I was on the train, and was immensely grateful for the roaring fire burning away in the foyer of the castle and the ability to finally be able to use my wand and dry myself. I sat down at the Gryffindor table, my back to the stony wall and positioned close to the Headmistress' watchful golden lectern. The hall filled with buzzing excitement, eagerness, and enthusiasm soon enough, and the House Sorting began.

I knew from the _Harry Potter _novels, that the Sorting Hat was ragged nearly thirty years ago, and by now it was barely recognisable as a hat. Despite this, it never failed to speak wise words and place each and every student in their rightful house. Well, all except myself, I believed. How I ended up in Gryffindor I shall never know. All I remember is sitting on that tiny stool for nearly twenty minutes with the usually blathering voice silent before it cried out, "Gryffindor!"

When I walked to the table I was overwhelmed with questions and had to disappoint the students by simply replying, "Nothing happened. I just sat there and it didn't say anything, either." I was so confused at that point. Was I supposed to have said something? Done something? Thought something? When I asked the other first years that evening, they said that one only had to wait for the hats decision. To this day I was still unsure what the long silence was for, but from looking at how the other students had turned out in their houses, I was glad to have been put in Gryffindor. I supposed it was the lesser of the four evils, though Ravenclaw wouldn't have been a bad choice.

When 'Zimmerman, Susana' had finally been placed into Hufflepuff, Proffesor McGonogall waved her hands and mountains of delicious, mouth-watering food appeared on the tables and she concluded that the announcements would be made before we were dismissed.

I ate slowly, savouring every mouthful and gazing leisurely around the room. As I was raising my glass of pumpkin juice to my lips I noticed a pair of eyes staring at me. I continued looking around, and hoped my pretence of being oblivious was believable. First James Potter and now Albus Potter. Why was _he_ looking at me? Was there something on my face?

I flushed a little of embarrassment as a thought came to me. His brother most likely told him of the encounter on the train and they were no doubt mocking me for the remainder of the journey. I lowered my eyes to my plate and suddenly my meal didn't look so appetising any longer. Pushing my plate forwards I hunched over, my arms wrapped around me, clutching my sides and squeezing my eyes shut, attempting to control my emotions.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see the Deputy Headmaster, Professor Flitwick staring at me worryingly.

"Would you like to go to your dorm, dear?" he asked softly, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Please," I whispered.

He stepped back and I rose from the table, ignoring the curious glances from the other students and hurried out of the hall. Once out of the door and halfway down the corridor towards the stairs, I leaned against the wall, releasing a shuddering breath, my arms loosening from around me.

After a minute of taking deep and calming breaths, I straightened up, climbed the stairs and made my way along the corridors towards the portrait of the Fat Lady. I stood in front of her for a little while, scolding my stupidity as I realised I didn't even know the password to my own common room.

"Don't worry, dear," the portrait said with a smile, dragging me away from my self-criticism to stare in shock at the voluptuous woman in front of me. "I'll just let you in this evening; there's no point you standing around for hours for the others to come."

I flashed her a grateful smile as she swung open and thanked her as I stepped inside. Nothing had changed in the six years I had lived here; the sofas and armchairs still sat as comforting and inviting as ever in front of the crackling blaze of the hearth, and the gold and red curtains lay draped across the windows, revealing the view of the luminous moon, beautifully prominent in the clear starry sky.

I gazed out longingly before raising a hand to cover my mouth as I yawned. After trudging wearily up the stairs I entered the dormitory. My four poster bed lay appealing, adorned with plump gold pillows and a soft red cotton duvet. I pulled off my shoes and robes, sleepily dressing in pyjama bottoms, a vest and a sweater and climbing beneath the covers, sinking into a state of sub- consciousness as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The following morning I woke to a tapping at my window. I rolled over in my bed and groaned at the bright morning light that was streaming through. I padded silently past the three sleeping forms in their beds and shuffled towards the window. I shared a dormitory with the three other Gryffindor girls of Sixth Year. It just so happened that 'brave' and 'loyal' girls were few and far between when I was sorted. In the bed nearest me was Odette Lambert, a loud-mouthed, confident and popular raven haired beauty. She had dark olive skin and deep, dark blue eyes. In first year she had attempted to talk to me and was one of the first to finally realise I was a lost cause in social situations. Either that or I wasn't "popular" enough to be associated with one such as herself.

One who hadn't realised so soon was Rose Weasley, the Potters' cousin. She was a smart, kind-hearted girl, who at first was determined to befriend me, despite her obvious failure. She had fiery red hair, striking midnight blue eyes hidden beneath long lashes, and a beautiful creamy complexion splattered with freckles.

The final addition to our dorm and house was Margaret (Maggie) Smith. An opinionated young woman; living off her father's wealth and status. Needless to say, I had as much clue as to why she was in Gryffindor as I did for why I was. She had long silky brown hair that flowed around her waist and a sharp angular face, hidden beneath layers of powder and lotions. The only thing soft about her was her eyes, sparkling golden eyes that betrayed her and revealed her true emotions. Of course, no one else noticed that, but when you focus more on others than yourself you realise these small, unnecessary details.

I unlatched the window and a cool autumn breeze swept over me, flowing through my long white-blonde hair. I reached an elegant albeit pale hand out, and the tawny owl hooted and curled its talons on my wrist. I tugged the piece of parchment gently from its beak, and then reached into the jar of treats on the windowsill. Offering the reward the owl swallowed it, hooted gratefully and flew off into the sky once more.

I sat on the edge of my bed and began carefully unravelling the parchment, fragile from the flight in the air.

_Dear Genevieve, _I read.

_We__ trust you arrived at Hogwarts safely and with ease. Enjoy your year and work hard as always._

_We will see you in the __summer,_

_Best wishes__ from everyone at Wool's._

_Wool's Orphanage, London._

A small smile made its way onto my face and I stowed the letter away in my bedside table. They didn't expect a reply; these letters were routine, but it was the act of receiving a letter that I loved. Two letters a year. One for the return to Hogwarts and another for wishing me a happy birthday- anymore and I'd be overwhelmed.

Pulling out a towel and fresh robes from my trunk, I headed towards the bathroom and jumped into a hot, refreshing shower. Once I was awake it was hopeless trying to sleep for longer. After brushing my teeth, dressing and brushing my hair, I applied a little concealer under my eyes to hide the purplish bags that were more than visible against my deathly white skin. I looked at myself for a moment, eerie ice-storm grey eyes staring back, and with a curt nod at my reflection I headed down to breakfast.

At only seven o' clock, the hall was empty and I happily strolled to my table and helped myself to a glass of water and a meal of pâté on toast, a favourite of mine that was not available at the orphanage.

As I grabbed a piece of toast and began to butter it, I noticed someone sat at the opposite end of the table, staring at me. He smirked at me and strolled over to sit opposite. I ignored him until his scrutinising gaze was a little too much for my liking.

"Can I help you?" I asked. He shook his head, still smiling, still staring.

"What are you doing?" I reiterated after I realised he wasn't go to elaborate.

"I'm eating my breakfast," he replied, pouring milk onto his cereal.

"No, I meant, what are you doing _here? _Sat opposite _me?"_

"Oh. Well, seeing as we're the only two here, I thought it would look odd to be sat separately. Besides, it's 'in-house co-operation'," he pointed out.

"That's a big word for you, Potter," I remarked, my eyes widening as I realised what I had just said, and who to.

He scoffed. "And since when have you and I had a proper conversation?"

"Why would I _want_ a conversation with you?" I spat, cursing myself at what was coming out of my mouth. I decided to take no responsibility of my words from here on out.

He shrugged. "Who wouldn't?"

Admittedly, Albus was a very smart pupil, but the only thing that let him down was that he thought being the son of Harry Potter granted him a free-pass through life. I seemed to be the only one who was unchanged by his so-called charm and wit. It was a shame my opinion of him was ruined as soon as he opened his mouth. I scolded myself, though. I was a firm believer of 'never judge a book by its cover', and yet already I was doing so – who was I to sum up his personality based on this _one_ conversation and his looks?

"How modest," I said sarcastically, but I couldn't help the small smile that was tugging at the corner of my mouth.

He smirked, noting my smile. "That's what I thought; I know you can't resist me."

"In your dreams," I retorted.

"Indeed." Potter muttered, so quietly I wasn't sure if I'd misheard him. I looked up at him and narrowed my eyes as he took a sip of pumpkin juice from _my_ goblet.

By this time the hall was slowly filling up with the early-risers and Professor Flitwick was shuffling about as fast as his little legs could carry him in order to hand out the timetables. He enquired whether I was feeling better and I replied I was, thank you, and took my timetable that he offered.

I smiled. This year I was taking seven subjects. I knew it was a little too ambitious for N.E.W.T level, but I had to push myself and see what I could handle.

This morning I had a double free, Defence Against the Dark Arts, another free, and then after lunch: Transfiguration, a single free period, and a single lesson of Potions before the end of the day.

The rest of my week was set out in the same way, my other subjects being Astronomy, Arithmancy, Charms, and Ancient Runes, and still leaving me with plenty of frees which I was grateful for - who knew how much homework we'd be getting now, after all.

"Trade?" Potter asked, holding his timetable out in front of me, and I begrudgingly offered him mine, a little curious to see what he was taking. I breathed a sigh of relief as I notice we only had three subjects together. After having almost every lesson together over the years it was good to have a break. We were sharing Ancient Runes, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions. He was also taking Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures and History of Magic. It was an odd set of subjects, but that didn't stop me from giving a satisfactory smile as I realised I was taking one more lesson than him.

He grunted after a look at mine and we swapped back the pieces of paper.

"What's wrong, Potter?" I asked, as I noticed his expression was a little put-out.

He looked startled for a moment and then smirked. "I didn't know you cared, Sanders."

"I don't," I said pointedly. "I was just being curious."

"Well, you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat." He winked – the _nerve_! - before pulling on his robes, hoisting his bag over his shoulder and strutting out of the hall. I stared after him, dazed. Had I just had a real conversation with someone? With a _boy?_ Scrap that, had I, Genevieve Sanders, practically a mute, almost _flirted? _

Nah...


	3. Chapter 3

The week past uneventfully as students and teachers regained normalcy within the school. I attended my lessons; constantly being reminded how important this year was for our N.E., and how the amount of effort being put into our studies was critical. Whilst taking all of their messages in, my mind was still lingering on my encounter with Albus Potter. What on earth was that all about?

I had spent every free minute trying to make sense of his character and what his business was with talking to me, but had so far reached no conclusion. My only theories were that he was either working on behalf of a dare or took enjoyment in seeing me flustered and out of my comfort zone.

"Hello again, Sanders," a voice whispered in my ear during Potions on Friday morning.

Gazing out the window in a trance I hardly noticed the presence beside me, and squeaked in surprise, my chair toppling over. I heard a deep chuckle and narrowed my eyes at Albus' twinkling pair.

"Oh, ha ha," I muttered under my breath. I pulled myself up from the floor, smoothing my skirt down before re-seating myself and shuffling as far away as possible from the boy.

"Well, Sanders, I knew I was alluring, but there's no need to throw yourself at my feet," he said with another of his infuriating winks.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't charm yourself, Potter."

"No need to; _some _people already do," he nodded his head to the right where across the room, Cassie Stakes from Hufflepuff was alternating her expression from adoration at Albus and then hatred at me. The girl was, putting it lightly, a few butterbeers short of a six-pack. Peroxide blonde hair, tangoed skin and more layers of makeup on than an onion – you get the picture.

"Oh, please,"I said, sighing. "If that's the kind of girl you're after, then why are you sitting next to me?"

"I need a _little _intelligent conversation now and again," he replied, airily.

"Intelligent conversation?" I asked. "And how would you know if I was intelligent or not?"

"Oh, please," he said in a high-pitched voice, which I realised was a poor imitation of my own. "I'm not the only one that's aware of the little Gryffindor genius in our year."

I stared at him, before hissing, "What on Earth is _that _supposed to mean?"

He smirked at me before I realised I wasn't going to get a response.

"Good morning, students!" cried a suspiciously happy voice from the front of the room. Professor Clegg had been my Potions teacher ever since first year, and he had never failed me once. He had wispy blonde hair that was slowly thinning and receding, and gentle brown eyes. His face was etched with wearied lines and I suspected he was in his late forties. Clegg had always been my favourite teacher, and from the raw enthusiasm in his voice it wasn't hard to see why.

The pupils in my class mumbled an incoherent 'Good morning' and many soon tuned out again. I adored Potions because of its obvious simplicity. Well, simplicity to me, I supposed. All that was required was following step-by-step instructions of a book and you couldn't go wrong.

Professor Clegg grinned maniacally before setting us with the lesson's task.

"This morning you will work in pairs to produce a single vial of Polyjuice Potion. Instructions can be found on page eighty-eight of the book _Moste Potente Potions_, of which you were required to have bought or borrowed before the beginning of the year, as we discussed on Monday's lesson. Before you come and get your ingredients, can anyone tell me the _effect_ of the potion?"

All hands stayed down, even mine, although I knew the answer perfectly well.

"Miss Sanders?" Clegg said, looking over at me with a knowing glint in his eyes. "Perhaps you can tell us?"

I peered nervously at all the faces that had turned to stare at me and swallowed before speaking.

"The effect of Polyjuice Potion is the transformation of a person to look and sound exactly like someone else. One dose lasts for one hour, but doses can be renewed, apparently indefinitely," I recited.

"Excellent, Miss Sanders. Ten points to Gryffindor!" He turned to address the rest of the class. "Now, you will each work with the person next to you. If one of you can come and collect your ingredients, the other may begin setting up their cauldron. The Lace Wing Flies have already been stewed so don't forget to collect a vial of them. Good luck, and may the best 'Potioner' win!"

The majority of the class rose wearily to their feet and trudged over to collect their ingredients. I stood awkwardly, turning to look at Albus who was in turn staring at me.

"Albus," I began uncertainly, "do you want to get the ingredients or shall I?

"I'll get them," he replied, and headed to the front of the classroom. I methodically set up the cauldron and waited patiently for Albus to return. Working in partners wasn't common during Potions class, and so I usually had no qualms, but now that we were I was a little worried. What was I to do if Albus was bad in this class? Would I fail? Would I have to tutor him for my grade?

It turned out I needn't have worried, as he seemed to work as efficiently as I did. He prepared the initial five ingredients, and I the other five. As I was shredding the dried skin of a Boomslang, Potter spoke.

"If you already knew the answer to the question, why didn't you just put your hand up to begin with?" he enquired, not once lifting his head whilst he worked.

My hand holding the peeling knife paused, and I thought for a moment before speaking.

"I don't know. I guess for the same reason as other people in the class."

This time he, too, paused and looked up, his eyes emitting confusion. "And what's that?" he asked.

I looked down, not wanting to see his eyes, and responded truthfully, "No one likes a know-it-all."

We continued working in silence once more and ten minutes before the bell rang Albus placed the stopper on three vials. I raised an eyebrow.

"You do realise that's two more than we need."

He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Sanders, I'm not stupid. There's one for Clegg, and one for each of us. I'm not seriously going to let good quality Polyjuice Potion go down the drain, am I?" he said, but the tone of his voice suggested it wasn't a rhetorical question.

I stared at him. "Well, are you?"

"Of course not!" he cried, exasperated. "Besides, you never know when it might come in handy." And with a wink he left the classroom, a vial on Professor Clegg's desk, and another in his pocket.

As I tidied up (Albus seemed to think it was beneath him), my eyes kept darting back to the vial, tempting me to take it, and so with a sigh I look around nervously and swiftly dropped the vial into my robe pockets. As he said, I never knew when I might need it.

I bade good bye to the Professor and silently departed from the classroom, before being set the homework to write six inches on why the potion should not be used by or on anything other than a human. Despite a midnight session of Astrology that evening, I was free to do as I pleased for the remainder of the day.

I headed to the Common Room and picked up any pieces of homework I had yet to finish and then ventured to the library where I sat at a small table in the corner, near the Restricted Section.

As I concluded my Potions essay, I heard voices whispering behind the nearest bookcase that separated the row of tables.

"Whatcha doing?" the one asked, murmuring.

"What do you_ think? _I'm picking bloody daisies!" the other replied.

"All right, all right, don't get your wand in a knot, I was only asking." the first voice defended.

"Well don't. I'm risking enough to do this, as it is, and I don't need you messing it all up and me ending in bloody _Azkaban!"_

"Watcha doing?" someone repeated in a light tone, speaking close to my ear. I threw a hand up to my mouth to prevent myself from screaming and twisted around to glare at Albus Potter.

"Oh, joy. I now have my own personal stalker," I muttered, my words sounding harsh in a whisper. He chuckled softly and sat in the chair beside me, cocking his head to listen better to the conversation taking place.

"Come on, I really doubt breaking into the Restricted Section is worth going to Azkaban for," the first person chuckled.

"Yes, but what I'm trying to learn is."

I turned to face Albus, worry etched into my face. He looked more curious than anything else- perhaps he knew what this was about?

"You're not seriously trying to learn how to-"

"Shh! Anyone could be listening!"

"Okay, okay. But _why? _I mean-"

"Honestly, Nott, are you really this thick?" she interrupted. "They deserve it aft-" she broke off mid-sentence, and I froze. After hearing the surname 'Nott', I had gasped, staring at Albus in shock. He only looked disappointed.

"Did you hear that?" the girl asked. "It sounded like it was coming from over there, go see who it was."

I began to rise from my chair and run before Albus gripped my shoulders, pull me closer to him and wrapped a thin piece of cloth around us. By now the footsteps were already rounding the corner and I braced myself for discovery by Nott and froze as he appeared in the aisle of the library. Nott stood still, his gaze sweeping along the bookshelves and eerily straight through me, sending a shiver down my spine. As soon as he returned to his partner I released the breath I was unaware I had been holding and shuffled out of the cloak.

_Come on, _Potter mouthed at me, and I nodded, hastily gathering my books and leaving the library, thanking Madame Carter before I left.

"Okay, what the hell was that about?" I asked, spinning and staring accusingly at Potter who was leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets.

"I thought you would have figured that out, Sanders," he mocked, easing himself away from the wall.

"Well clearly not as I'm asking _you."_

Albus raised an eyebrow, implying he didn't believe a word I'd said.

"Well," I said slowly. "It sounded like, whoever it was, wanted to learn _some_ sort of dark magic."

"Well, nice work, Sherlock," he said, though I thought he already knew that my surname was Sanders. "I'd probably say the same but there's no point jumping to conclusions about this. They didn't sound particularly… intellectual. Nott already gave himself away, for Merlin's sake," he said with a chuckle.

I nodded in silent agreement and we both turned to walk down the corridor.

"So," he said, breaking the silence. "Where are you off to now?"

I thought for a moment. "I think I'm going to go down to the Black Lake. It's a nice day out and I _do_ need to finish my homework," I said with an accusing look.

He nodded. "Right, then. Er, I guess I'll see you later, then?"

I blinked. My voice sounding uncertain I replied, "I guess?" and walked out through a door in the corridor, through the greenhouses and headed down to the Black Lake.

I was about to sit down when I realised someone else was sat a little further away,

"Oh, sorry, I'll go." I said quietly, picking up my bag and beginning to walk away before the occupant called out.

"Genevieve, sit down, it's not like I own the bloody _lake,"_ Odette remarked.

I sat, warily watching her meanwhile.

She sighed. "I don't bite Sanders." I raised an eyebrow – I'd been witness to more than one argument between Odette and another student, usually Maggie Smith or her close friend Erik Williams. "Okay, well, not much, anyway," she admitted.

I was sitting cross-legged on the grass, mirroring Odette's body language and labelling the stars in the Delphinus constellation that was best seen this month, when a shadow swept over me.

"Well, this is in odd set-up," someone said, and I could hear the smile in their voice. I turned around, squinting in the sun light and recognised Erik Williams smiling down at me before Odette spoke.

"What d'you want, Williams?"

"Oh, nothing, my beautiful swan. I just couldn't resist you for too long," he winked at Odette devilishly and settled down beside her, peering over her shoulder at the work she was doing. I watched as he wrinkled his face in disgust. "Astronomy? Never could understand what all the dots and lines meant."

I smiled a little, keeping my head down, and tried to focus on my work.

"Didn't know you were friends with a mute, Odette," I heard him murmur, and I looked up, frowning.

"I'm not a mute, and I'm certainly not deaf, you know. I _can _hear what you're saying." I continued frowning at his surprised turquoise coloured eyes and waited patiently for Odette to stop choking in astonishment.

"Well I never... Turns out he wasn't lying," he finally said, a small smile of what could only be described as wonderment on his face.

"What?" I asked, surprised a little at myself for breaking my 'no talking' rule. I wasn't shy, not by any means, it just seemed like talking always led to something more when I spoke to people.

"Potter. Turns out he was right. The hermit has indeed come out of its shell." I raised an eyebrow- I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "Well, he didn't say those words exactly, but I knew that's what he meant," he added hurriedly.

"Wow, Williams, who knew you could be so... _charming_,"Odette remarked sarcastically.

"Did you just imply that I was a hermit?" I asked, my voice dangerously low.

Their joking ceased at once and Erik ran a hand nervously through his tousled black hair.

"Er, not in so many _words_, per se. I just meant that, well, no one's ever really heard you _speak_ before, except in class, of course, and so, uh, now that you _are_ speaking and uh, _defending_ yourself against pricks like me, it's just a bit of a shock... you know?" he finally finished, his voice nearly squeaking at the end.

"No, Erik. I _don't_ know."

He coughed and looked pleadingly at Odette who was trying to smother her laughter. Pitying him I decided to simply remove myself from this ever increasing awkward situation.

I nodded politely at Odette after gathering my belongings, and strode towards the castle, ignoring Erik. No sooner was I walking along the corridor when Odette ran up beside me, pulling on my arm to stop.

"That," she puffed - clearly the twenty metre run was a little overexerting, "was _brilliant. _I don't think I've ever seen Erik lost for words before."

I shrugged. "He couldn't have honestly just expected me to sit there and ignore his insults."

"Oh Genevieve, darling –" _Darling? So, we're friends, now?_ "–he wasn't being _serious, _you know. I think it was more of a test to see if what Albus had said was true or not. I mean, you barely speak, so I think it's come of quite a shock when you make a little display like that."

I shrugged again. "Whatever."

She grinned and slung an arm around my delicate shoulders. "You know what, Sanders? I think I sense a beautiful friendship in the making..." _Do you really?_ I thought. _I certainly don't. _

I made my way down to the Great Hall that night for dinner, inwardly cringing at the conversation Odette and I had shared after the incident by the lake this morning. Well, I say 'conversation', but it was more her endlessly talking about her holiday skiing in New Zealand and me nodding politely and inserting a "Yes" or "No" every five minutes, as if I knew _exactly _what a horror it was to not be able to find your chap stick on top of a mountain. I didn't think she'd take it too well if I told her to shut up and leave me alone so I could finish my homework.

As I began to sit down a voice called out.

"Oi! Genevieve! Fancy sitting with us tonight?" it said loudly and I whirled my head round, seeing Odette waving towards me.

_Merlin, she doesn't give up,_ I thought, walking over warily and cautiously sat down opposite her, squeezed between Robin Williams - Erik's old brother- and Charlie Longbottom who was also in Seventh Year.

_Well this is awkward, _I thought, _sat between two of the oldest and most good looking boys of the school, all because I embarrass one of their brothers. _

As I sat down, Robin turned around to face me, his hand outstretched. I shook it dazedly and listened as he began talking.

"Sanders, I've gotta say, from what Odette hear tells me, I'm pretty bloody impressed," he finally stopped shaking my hand and released me. "Silencing my brother... Merlin, that must've taken some doing." I smiled weakly, unsure what would be an appropriate response. 

"Uh," I began, noticing their eyes on me. Rose was sat on one side of Odette, and Sophie Tanner the Head Girl, a pretty Seventh Year brunette, on the other. "Someone had to do it."

Odette snorted, the two girls giggled and the boys grinned, each nudging a shoulder playfully; clearly Erik was quite a character normally if I was being treated like this for just shutting him up. I stared down at my plate for the remainder of the evening, pushing around my food artistically.

As I was beginning to make an excuse about needing to finish homework, three more joined the group. Erik Williams, Scorpius Malfoy and finally Albus Potter. They sat down in the seats where the two boys had just left, but Scorpius sat down smoothly beside Rose who blushed a deep crimson which I think only I noticed.

"Hello, ladies," Albus greeted, tipping an imaginary hat at me.

As the general banter began, Erik lent backwards to mutter into my ear.

"Listen, I'm sorry about earlier," he said. "I was just messing about, I didn't mean to make you upset, I just say stupid stuff sometimes without thinking. I'm _really_ sorry, Genevieve."

I smiled warmly at him, and patted his arm. "Don't worry about it, Williams. People just can't help the shit that comes out of their mouths, sometimes." I stood up. "Well, you can't, anyway."

All their eyes were on me as I walked away, leaving a once again stunned Erik, and I heard Odette wolf-whistling as Scorpius and Albus chortled, obviously having been informed about our previous run-in.

Walking out of the Great Hall I brushed past a figure who stopped and gripped my arm lightly, holing me back.

"Hey Genevieve, sorry about on the train the other day. I shouldn't have been surprised to realise a bunch of Slytherins were lying."

I looked up from my feet into James' face. "It's okay," I said, feeling a little guilty. "You were just doing your job." He smiled at me as did Fred Weasley who was stood at his side, and turned to go into the hall.

When I finally reached my dormitory I sighed, sinking onto my bed and wondering how many of my personal rules I'd broken today.


	4. ALERT

I am no longer adding chapters to Out of Your Depth on this website. I have updated the chapters that are posted here and am solely posting the story on Harry Potter

My page can be found at this link: .?showuid=201831

Thank you! x


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